


Live in Stereo

by WordsOfHeart



Category: Shameless (US), Thirteen Reasons Why - Jay Asher
Genre: Crying, Death, Depression, Father-Son Relationship, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mother-Son Relationship, Original Character(s), Suicide, Suicide Notes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 22:34:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11610327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsOfHeart/pseuds/WordsOfHeart
Summary: Hi assholes. Mickey Milkovich here. Live and in stereo. Ready to hear the story of my little fucked up life, more specifically, why it ended? If you're listening to one of these tapes, you're one of the reasons why I died. Don't get too comfortable, some ugly shit is about to go down.-This story as a mashup of Thirteen Reasons Why, but it will approach the book, more than the series on netflix. -





	Live in Stereo

**Author's Note:**

> This story will talk about a lot of very delicate subject and will include many different triggers, like suicide, physical abuse and death. If those are subjects that are hard for you to talk about, I suggest you not reading the following story. The story will include 5 tapes with 2 sides each, so we are talking of 10 reasons why, rather than 13.
> 
> I highly suggest listening to the song : Bruises by Lewis Capaldi, while reading the first chapter xx

The browned headed boy slowly climbed the stairs that leaded to his brothers room, feeling intrigued by the silence that filled their house. In the past few weeks, the sound of sobbing and screaming had been the only music rigging in his ears. He had put his complete life on pause since _it_ had happened. College, studies, work and girls, were no longer his priority. He had been the only one capable of dealing with Ian. The others had no idea how to manage his crying fits, his punching in the walls or his delusion. Lip had promised his family to take the situation in hand, helping Ian at the very best of his knowledge and capacities.

This morning though, was slightly different, because he wasn't heading upstairs with Ian's  medication and a glass of water. He was carrying a rather large package that someone had left in front of their home, identified to the redhead's name. Even though Lip questioned himself for a while on observing the contents of the box, he decided to respect his brothers intimacy, considering it was probably one of the last things he had left.

He reached the door, which was closed as always, giving a steady knock against it. He waited for a reply that never came, which had became a normality since Mickey's _death_. He decided to push his way inside the room anyhow, leaving out a deep sigh as he noticed his brother laying down in his bed with his blankets over his head and no source of exterior light. Darkness and sadness had seemed to have translated into Ian's new obsession.

''Hey kiddo. How you feeling this morning?'' Lip asked politely, like every other day. He always secretly wished for a positive reply, knowing it would be much longer before his dream would actually come true.

''Mhm...Fucking awesome.'' He groaned sarcastically, not once slipping out of his duvet cocoon.

''I have a package for you. Has no name other than yours on it.'' The older sibling admitted, grabbing the blankets between his fingers and roughly pulling them away from his brother's body. He noticed his sharp collarbones and ribcage, but decided to keep his comments to himself, not wanted to make Ian feel more ashamed about himself than he already was.

''I didn't order anything. Give it back to the postal office.'' Ian rolled wet eyes, grabbing the sheets out of his brothers hand and pulling them back onto his torso.

''Aren't you curious of knowing what's inside?''

''The fuck would I care.''

Lip sighed, hoping the mysterious box would create a bit of enthusiasm in Ian's empty heart. Turns out it was simply another worthless try. Before exiting the room, Lip dropped the large cardboard on his brothers bed, patting Ian's shoulder sympathetically.

''In case you change your mind.''

''Whatever.''

He exited the room in desperation, knowing he had failed another attempt at the _making Ian smile mission_.

Ian stayed still, empty green eyes stuck on the large box by the edge of his bed. He stared at it curiously, knowing that it had probably been an identification mistake.

Anyhow, he couldn't seem to keep one of his thoughts silent :

What is it was from Mickey.

When Mickey had committed suicide, he had left nothing behind, not even one single note. It had always troubled Ian, not to hear from him one last time. The pictures of his boyfriend slashing his wrists, alone and scared, still haunted him every second of every day. It was like a violent, heart retching gore horror movie, that kept playing on repeat in his head and that would never pause no matter how hard he tried to mute his visions.

Ian swallowed the lump forming in his throat, reaching his thin arm towards the box and pulling it towards his lap. He observed the packaging from top to bottom, noticing that the script in which his name was written, was most definitely not Mickey's hand writing. He sighed, knowing he would probably be disappoint by its content. He slipped his long nails in a small hole on the left corner of the box, pushing his fingers inside so he could tear the edges of the thick cardboard. He could feel his heart thump quickly into his chest, feeling a rush that he hadn't sensed in a while. When Mickey had died, he had dragged Ian's mental life with him, leaving only his physical aspect to look at. All the rest had been gone for weeks.

Confusion filled his eyes when he noticed the strange shoe box, taking it out with his trembling hands and pushing the lid away. He lifted one of the small tapes, starring at the inscription against it curiously.

_Tape 1- Side A_

''What the fuck.'' Ian whispered to himself, feeling like something was suddenly really wrong. The nerves doubled in his chest when he noticed the old walkman and headphones also resting inside the box. He brought his fingers to his mouth, nibbling onto them like he used to do before an exam in high school.

He questioned himself for a while on rather he should listen to the tapes or not, scared of what he could find out. But his inner voice was tempting him and his body was craving answers, which left him no other choice than to pop the first tape into the old-fashioned machine, slipping the headphones on and bringing a trembling fingers towards the play button. He inhaled deeply before pushing against it, knowing it might be something he would quickly regret...Knowing there was no turning back. He closed his eyes as he waited for the music, the voices or the story to begin, having no idea what the fuck would happen. -

_Hi assholes. Mickey Milkovich here. Live and in stereo. Ready to hear the story of my little fucked up life, more specifically, why it ended? If you're listening to one of these tapes, you're one of the reasons why I died. Don't get too comfortable, some ugly shit is about to go down._

_Once you will be finished listening to these tapes, you have one single thing to do, consider it as my final wish. You need to pass on the box to the other person on the list, the one right after your tape. If the last tape if yours, then it is your responsibility to burn these and keep it your own little fucked up secret. I hope you don't have any questions, cause I ain't there to hear them._

Ian immediately paused the cassette, not believing what he was hearing. He could already feel the tears make their way into his eyes, haven waited for weeks for answers from Mickey, but now feeling unsure he was ready to hear them. To hear the truth. He kept blankly starring at the box, the multiple tapes, not believing his boyfriend would actually take the time to record all of this before dying. It quickly made Ian realise that Mickey hadn't just killed himself randomly, he had fucking thought about it a lot before. That only made things worst. Ian had been blinded, he hadn't seen any of it coming. He brought a hand to his chest, wanting to make sure his heart was still beating. Sometimes, his body was so numb, he felt like he wasn't even connected to reality. Feeling his organs work was the only thing that made him remember that he was still alive. He pressed on the black button again, allowing the broken voice to ring through his ears.

Fuck had he missed that voice. Every work he spoke sent shivers down his spine, unable to control the intense emotions he was now dealing with.

_I decided to kill myself, because of a lot of different things. I might be a fuckup, but I'm not dumb, I thought about it before and noticed that there was no other way to go. All the hope, all the faith, it was all washed away into our big long lost galaxy. It had been the end for me for a while already, but these tapes are going to explain why._

_I never fucking asked to be born in the shittiest hood of Chicago, but it seemed like it was the only plan God had in store for me. When I saw light, the world already had wreaked my future, even though I hadn't asked for any of it. That's probably your fault. She asked to raise us somewhere else. She asked to leave, wishing, dreaming, praying for a brighter life. But you refused, thinking about your own fucking self, like you always have done best. You decided to offer us the worst fucking environment to grow and to destroy everything mom was trying to build. It was your plan from the start and you've never realised how much harm it caused to all of us._

_Terry fucking Milkovich, you heartless father, welcome to your tape._

Ian listened to every single word closely, haven never had a background on Mickey's life. His boyfriend had always been very silent about his younger days and his family, always getting very cold whenever Ian would try and bring it up. The boy stayed motionless in bed, feeling waves of dizziness overcome his body, part of him still thinking that he was going through a really realistic dream. He shook a tear that was slowly rolling along his cheek, letting Mickey's voice echo through him.

_When I was a 2, I was too young to understand, and you knew that. You wouldn't care to hide whenever you felt horny, taking out your dick at whatever moment of the day. When I was watching my cartoons on TV, you wouldn't think of my well being, switching drastically to a porn channel, leaving me starring at big boobs and wet pussy's._

_When I was 4, you would beat mom in my face. You'd hit her while she was pregnant with Mandy, not giving any fucks about how you could hurt the both of them. If your meal wasn't ready by 5, you'd slap her in the face. If she would put the heater too high, you'd kick her in the ribs, not wanting the electricity bills to climb. When Iggy would defend her, you'd kick him out of our shitty house and lock him out on the streets to freeze to death. Not caring if he slept outside in the snow without a coat. He was 9. He barely died once remember? You found him two days later in our backward, unconscious, barely breathing, lips purple and eyes shut. I was crying, I was scared. You told me to shut up, that I was being a pussy. You were already gay shaming when I was only a child._

_When Mandy was born, I was fucking scared all the time. Mom was weak, she'd stay in bed for days. You'd tell me and Iggy that she was tired. Truth was, she was locked up there, right dad? Iggy was the one feeding our sister, he was the one changing her diapers, he was the one signing her asleep and kissing her goodnight. You were never there, you didn't fucking care._

_When I was 12, you nearly killed mom. I heard her screaming from your bedroom. Iggy wasn't home. I ran to see what was going on and she was there, laying on the bed and covered in blood. I remember crying, jumping on you and begging for you to stop. I remember trying to punch you against the chest and you throwing me back against the wall. I remember smiling, because from that moment on, you stopped hurting mom and started beating the shit out of me up instead._

''You hungry?'' Lip propped his head into Ian's room, starring at him questionably when he noticed the headphones covering his ears. Ian didn't notice him in the slightest, being completely captivated in the insanities that he was hearing. ''Ian?'' He asked again, approaching his brother nervously and pressing a hand on his shoulder.

Ian jumped in shock, starring at his brother with wide tearful eyes. He shook his head, rubbing his spheres gently and letting the headphones fall into his neck. He tapped the recording, clearing his throat in attempt to look as normal as possible.

''Sorry...What?''

''I was asking if you were hungry?''

Ian shook his head, trying his best not to cry out loud. Since Ian had found out the death of Mickey, he had cried far too much in front of his brother. Lip had been the one with his at the hospital and the one by his side when the doctor told him there was nothing more they could do. Lip had been the one holding him as he sobbed and shouted throughout the hospital halls, he had carried him in the cab in his arms and had held him that night while he cried himself asleep.

''What are you listening too? Was that in the box?'' Lip asked, wondering why his brother suddenly seemed in such a weird state of mind.

''Hum...'' Ian hesitated, swallowing nervously a few times before getting his lie together in his mind. ''A few days after... _everything_...I had ordered a few tapes of Mickey's favourite music online to listen to. Mickey liked the sound of music in this old school crap. I guess I just forget about them...My mind these days is just blurry you know?'' He sucked onto his lip, feeling proud of how his story was coming perfectly together.

''That's a nice way of remembering him Ian.'' He honestly admitted, tapping his brother's back in attempt to show him support. ''If ever you change your mind about being hungry...You can come down stairs and eat some pizza I ordered.'' Lip smiled, knowing he was idealising a scenario that would probably never happen, but thinking it was worth the try.

The redhead nodded, watching his brother exit his bedroom before going back to Mickey's atrocious confessions.

_At 13, mom died. We never knew how, you just told us she had an accident. Strangely enough, police came to arrest you two days after she left us. We didn't see you for two years. Those were the most peaceful years of my life. I wish mom would of have killed you before you killed her. I wish I would have killed you before I killed myself._

_At 15, I brought a boy home for a school project. We were in my room going through different books we had rented at the library. Nothing happened, but I would of have fucking wanted to kiss him. I **liked** him. But you knew that right? Because I heard you tell him that you'd shoot him if ever he'd see you come back in his house again. You made my first crush terrified of me. _

_At 19 you caught me with the boy I **loved** in the living room. We were doing nothing wrong...He was pleasuring me, he was giving me the feelings in my stomach that you've never made me feel. He made me feel loved and wanted, praised and worth it. You almost shot him. You punched him until blood covered his pretty face. You made me fuck a girl in front of his tearful eyes. You rapped me from a distance and you fucking watched. _

Ian was full on crying now, remembering that very moment perfectly. Still today, that day gave him nightmares, having no words to describe his intense hatred towards Terry and how badly he had destroyed his sons life. Seeing Mickey being trapped in front of him without being able to do anything to stop it, had been his most painful experience before... _you know_.

_I don't know if you realise how badly you've ruined me? Until I came out, years before, you made me feel like it wasn't alright to be myself. I've never had a dad to come and defend me when bullies would hit me at school. I've never had a dad to show me how to ride my bike or how to tell me how babies were made. I've never had a dad to confess to when I felt like shit. I've never had a dad._

He could now hear the tears in his voice, making his heart break even more. He could relate to Mickey not having a father, but was now realising that his situation was very far from being as horrible as his boyfriends.

_You were never there to me. You were only there to ruin me, to bring me down and to hit me when your other punching bags were away. Terry, you're a heartless fucking asshole. You're one of the reasons why I died. Congratulations on winning father of the year._

And just like that, the voice cut off, making Ian realise that he had already finished one of the tapes. He starred at his dark room as multiple shivers ran through his body, wondering how he would ever move one after hearing such a thing. He played through the multiple other tapes, realising that his was somewhere in there and that it was like playing a deadly game of Russian roulette.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the first chapter.  
> I really want to hear what you guys have to say about this before really getting into the story. It is something much more darker than what I usually write, so any feedback is good to hear :) xx


End file.
